


It's On Random

by 994527



Category: Formula 1 RPF, MotoGP RPF, Motorcycling RPF
Genre: Angst, Crack, Fluff, Gen, Humor, M/M, anything and everything - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-22
Updated: 2014-12-09
Packaged: 2018-02-09 23:44:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2002596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/994527/pseuds/994527
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically, any random little moments and scenarios with nothing in particular in common...</p><p>Same as Truth Serum: relationship tags/chapter protagonists are separate. </p><p>I'll add characters as I add any chapters, rating in chapter title.</p><p>Some may be prompt fills.</p><p>1. Dani/Marc - "Down to Business" (T)<br/>2. Kimi/Fernando/Mark/Jenson - "Pink Like The Salmon" (G)<br/>3. Jenson/Seb - "Cockdance" (T)<br/>4. Lewis/Nico - "Hammertime" (G)<br/>5. Seb/Rocky - "Weighing My Options" (G)<br/>6. Dani/Marc - "After Aragon" (G)<br/>7. Dani/Marc - "Fireworks" (T)<br/>8. Alex/Alex - "Team Alex" (G)<br/>9. Jorge/Vale - "Piñata" (G)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dani/Marc - "Down to Business" (G)

**Author's Note:**

> I always make everyone overthink and stress about everything in my stuff so... what if actually it was just really straightforward?
> 
> Also lol, my computer had a bit of a moment whilst I was posting this, and put 'Interspecies Romance' as a tag...

“Morning.” Dani walked in and sat down opposite his teammate, like he did most days.

“Morning.” Marc, mouth full, smiled at him and pushed a Pedrosa-ready coffee over the table towards his teammate. “Sleep alright?”

“Yeah, not bad. Bruised.”

“Same. Yesterday was not a good day. I mean, I crash a lot fair enough, but you don’t…2 in one day. Fuck Germany.” The younger rider feigned irritation before looking back at his teammate and making an unimpressed face. “And my neck kills. Again. Was ok after that massage – thank you – but woke up feeling like I’d been felled.” He devoured more food and followed it with coffee, mouth still full as he carried on. “Whch iss basiclyy wht hppned. Th- traack axxxed me.”

“You’re welcome. And I can imagine. I can’t believe you got away with it! Me or Jorge would have been in hospital.” The older rider followed suit with the eating and looked up and nodded at Rhys, communications manager, as he walked in. “Pfff. Anyway, I think we need to stop fucking around. I like you. And you like me. Not as a friend. You know what I mean, right? We can just admit it now?”

“Admtt itt?” Marc swallowed and smiled, no doubt at all on his face, just as there was none on his teammate’s. “Fair enough. Admitted. I like you a lot.”

“Good.” The older rider got to his feet and downed the last of his espresso, taking a croissant for the road. “Have a good session. See you in my motorhome at 7? Bring beer if you want to drink it.”

“K. Condoms?”

“Bring some.”

“Cool. See you later.” The younger rider winked at him and smiled as Dani nodded and headed out the door, Marc refocussing on the mountain on his plate that had finally had diminished, to a point where it was now finishable. Rhys sat down in front of him.

“You always have breakfast with Dani?”

“Yep.” The rider nodded and filled another fork. 

“Why?”

“I like him. Good start to the day.” He started chewing again and shrugged at him. “-nd he’sss hot.”

Rhys’ mouth dropped open and he leaned forward as though he hadn’t heard, Marc frowning back at him in puzzlement. 

“What?”

“Hot?!”

“Yeah. And lucky me, I have a date with him tonight. Which reminds me…I need beer for that. Can you ask hospitality to steal some for me?”

 _WHAT._ “You’re joking.”

“No..?” Marc looked at him like he was stupid. “His motorhome, 7 o clock. That’s if we don’t end up on the floor again, anyway.”

“ON THE FLOOR?!”

The Cervera native rolled his eyes. “Crashing, idiot. I think we’ll probably use the bed for _that_ , not the floor.” He got to his feet and mirrored the way Dani had finished his coffee. “See you in a bit. Oh, and…who’s my best bet to steal some condoms d’ya think? Jorge or Cal? Or Vale?”

 _THIS ISN’T HAPPENING. WHY ISN’T HE LAUGHING. WHY AREN’T PEOPLE FILMING FOR A HIDDEN CAMERA SHOW?_ “W-wh…”

“I’ll try somewhere down at Yamaha, anyway. And don’t look so shocked, it’s not that big a deal?” He rolled his eyes again and headed for the door. “See you later.”

_Stay calm, people are going to appear soon and laugh, and everything will go back to normal._

And he waited there for 10 full minutes, staring into his coffee, before he finally realised that wasn’t going to happen.


	2. Kimi/Fernando/Mark/Jenson - "Pink Like The Salmon" (G)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've already read this on Motorskink ages ago, sorry to disappoint! Don't think there's anything else I haven't put on AO3 yet, just trying to organise my stuff (and, er...delete a few things from my hard drive ;))
> 
> If not, I hope you like it. (We're pretending that Kimi is a social animal with more people than just Seb, in this.)

“It’s not that simple.”

“It’s very simple.” Kimi kept idly chewing through the gummy bears and sighed as he watched Fernando whirl around in a blur of Latin temperament. “Everything – simple.”

“NOTHING IS SIMPLE.” There was a muffled hijo de puta before finally some stillness returned. Kimi kept chewing. 

“Want a beer?” The Finn rose from his chair and wandered back towards the house, feeling the slight beginnings of sunburn and, whilst not wanting to go what Fernando would call “pink like the salmon”, he decided against an extra trip to the bathroom for sunscreen. Too much effort. Simple.

“Yes.”

He heard the reply despite already being in the kitchen, grabbing two beers and the bottle opener before returning to his seat.

“Thank you.”

The pacing resumed.

“Ok so how about this...? We just say that...we had some drinks and that they fell asleep in the same room and that’s it.”

Kimi raised his eyebrows and looked over the top of his sunglasses at the Spaniard. “Wow. That’s amazing. Everyone will believe you.”

Fernando glared and put his hands back on his hips. “¡NUNCA! dije ¡NUNCA debería haber open a Tweeeettteerr!” He closed his eyes and took a breath. “What. Are. We. Going. To. Do.”

“Drink your beer. Wait until they wake up and see what happened.”

“NO!” Fernando whirled round and raised a finger, which Kimi found faintly hilarious. His face, of course, displayed none of that. “You have to have a plan! In these times you arrive with plan and make the badness more easy for them!”

“Or...you just wait.”

Fernando was now the one glaring, violently shaking his head.

“Or maybe...” Kimi shrugged. “Run away?”

A light flashed in his eyes and Fernando was half way back to the house before Kimi could realise the extent of the shit he’d just dropped on his own head. “No no no no no no no...no you don’t!” He gave chase and managed to catch him before the front door. He whirled the Ferrari driver round and gave him The Face. Fernando stopped and grimaced.

“Maybe, maybe....we just both run away..?”

“It’s my house.” Kimi took another sip of beer as he realised it was still in his hand, impressed he’d brought it with him and not spilt any. “But we could leave a note.”

“Like...Good morning Mark and Jenson. I hope you sleep well. I just tweeted a picture of you in bed together –oops! When the press arrive, just close the curtains. We won’t be back but you will probably want to wait anyway. Ciao.??”

They looked at each other and shrugged.

“Got a pen?”


	3. Jenson/Seb - "Cockdance" (T)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set in anytime recent before 2014. Might spot the Moulin Rouge moment...that's what triggered the idea ;)

“…and then he pulled his trousers down and started flinging his cock around.” Jenson tried not to laugh, wondering if the plan had worked and the German had overheard him, before he saw Seb immediately freeze and walk backwards a few paces to make eye contact.

“What?!”

“Oh, sorry. Private conversation.” The McLaren driver smirked and noticed the German’s irritated blush.

“Oh, right. Fine.” He started walking again and pulled to the same immediate stop as the next part of the ‘private conversation’ continued.

“…and I said to him, ‘Look, it’s not that I’m not enjoying the show…but can you please just get over here and let’s do it?’”

“OK.” Sebastian marched back over and folded his arms. “What the FUCK are you talking about.”

 _Aww, he’s jealous._ “Like I said, priv-“

“Yeah, private conversation. Fine. Sounds like I need to know, though. Don’t you think?” The German raised his eyebrows knowingly and waited, impatience and irritation in abundance. “Hmm?”

“Don’t be a bitch.”

“Pfff. _Just tell me._ ”

“Fine.” Jenson shrugged as though it didn’t really matter, and continued. “So, Mark stop-“

“MARK?!”

The Brit turned from the original conversation partner – a McLaren mechanic – and made an innocent face at the _other_ Red Bull driver. “Yes. Mark..?”

“You…Mark…cock?” Seb’s mouth was hanging open, eyes halfway between shock and heartbreak.

 _Bless you and your naivety._ “Me, Mark and cock? What’s it to you?”

“Nothing!” _Too fast._ “I mean, er…nothing…”

Jenson tried to keep his smirk in check and wondered at how well the plan was working. “Oh, ok. So…” He turned away again and ‘carried on’. “So, Mark stopped dancing around and walked over, grinning like an idiot, and I was thinking ‘finally it’s coming true’, and-“

“FINALLY?! What?!” More flabbergast spluttered forth from the German and he planted his hands on his hips. “I can’t believe this! All this time, and you’ve just been…been…”

“…been…?”

“Wanting HIM!”

“Why is that a problem..?”

 _Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t…_ “BECAUSE HE DOESN’T LOVE YOU!”

They stared each other down for a few seconds before Jenson risked a look at his mechanic and he wisely sloped off, leaving them alone and still staring.

“Doesn’t he?”

“No.”

“How do you know?”

“Well…ok, maybe I don’t. I don’t know how he feels about you. But…but…” The German trailed off and frowned into the distance, flustered by the hole he was digging himself but unable to stop. _I do, I do, I do._

“But…”

“But…I, er…know something else. More important. I hope.”

“More important?”

“I hope.” The Red Bull Driver took a deep breath and gulped. “Don’t talk about Mark...Talk about me.”

“You?” _Surely he’s not going to-_

“Me. Me! I love you.” He looked horrified and happily relieved at the same time as the words escaped him, waiting for a reaction from the Brit with nervous eyes. Jenson kept the eye contact and then started to smile.

“I knew it.”

“What?!”

“I knew it. And I knew you were walking past, and I knew you could hear me. Finally.”

“What?!”

“Yeah! I’m sick of waiting around for you to admit it, so I thought ‘I’ll make him jealous’, and…it worked.”

“But…but…” 

“Love you too.” Jenson wound his arm around the German’s waist and pulled him in. “Now…it may have been lies…but sounds like a good idea…?”

"The Mark or the cockdance?"

"Definitely the cockdance. And you."


	4. Lewis/Nico - "Hammertime" (G unless you're a nun)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know whether this is as funny in the cold light of day as it seemed to me at 2am last night, but...I'll let you judge.
> 
> I admit a few things: 1) I love Lewis Hamilton 2) I adore Nico Rosberg 3) The way it's started to fall apart is a bit of heartbreaker 4) I actually love this song. "Your Love" - Nicole (of course ;)) 5) I'm sorry but also not ;)
> 
> Lastly, I hope you enjoy. And if you don't like Lewis, I hope you take comfort in the fact that I've ruined one of my summer anthems for myself, with the idea of Nico singing it and dancing around. ;)
> 
> Ok, it's Hammertime... *cringe* but <3

The rhythmic knock on the door made sure he knew who it was, and Lewis opened the door to find a grinning Nico leaning on the doorframe. _Wow._ He always looked good, but when he was tired and a bit ruffled but still in the right kind of smart/casual outfit, it-

“ _Boy you don't know how much I like it. It's so hard, not to bite it..._ ” The German cracked into a grin and walked past him into the room. “ _Just a little…I know you like it…?_ ” He raised an eyebrow and stared his teammate down, hint of a smile, cheeky like no one else on the grid could pull of, waiting for the response, waiting to see if he’d got it, full flirt-mode engaged.

 _Always something. There’s always something._ “ _I'll do whatever you want. Something 'bout you so enticing. Even when I try to fight it…_ ” Lewis quietly kicked the door shut behind him and took a couple of steps towards the blonde driver, smiling back, arms spread. “ _Knock me out like Michael Tyson. I'll do whatever you want_.”

“Hi.” Another grin, little shrug. “I’ve been practicing my American.”

“I hear that.”

“Need to be prepared for your next rude comments to the press…” Nico looked away and feigned offense before smiling again. “Just-“

 _Bitch._ “ _I'm never letting you go baby. I love you so baby…?_ ” The Brit winked at him and shrugged. “You know I don’t mean it. We agreed on red herrings. You got MARRIED.”

“I did.” A nod. “You noticed?”

“Funnily enough, I did. Cause _your love makes me feel like…_ ”

“You’re going to run out of words before me, you know. I learnt the _whole song_ just to piss you off.” He started dancing on the spot and singing, grinning and interrupting himself occasionally to check his boyfriend was still looking at him like he wanted him to be. “Do, do, do, do, do, do…Do, do, do, do, do…Do, do, do, do, do…”

“Have you been drinking?”

“Including the podium?”

“No.”

“Still yes.” The German started to sing again and Lewis rolled his eyes before jumping into it, joining in. 

“You’re crazy.”

They danced around for a few seconds before the noise from Nico started again, both of them aware by this point that ‘have you been drinking?’ was a resoundingly loud YES for both.

“Do, do, do, do, do, do…Do, do, do, do, do…Do, do, do, do, do…” Nico grinned back at him and then moved around behind him and moulded himself against the Brit, lips now too close to his ear to keep them anything but connected. “ _Yeah baby you got me. My body's like Bugatti. You know everybody wants one, but you got everything they don't. You get all my love and all my kisses when we huggin'. MC Hammer… girls can't touch this…_ ” He was going for sultry whisper, got half way through, then giggled like a baby goat and broke the moment completely. They ended up staring at each other, laughing, before Nico sighed and shrugged. “I tried…”

“I liked it.. And no, no girls. Well, her. No other girls.”

“No other girls. No other guys. Just you, and me, and her, and your stupidly beautiful girlfriend. Whatever she sees in you I can’t imagine…”

“I know. Same. You’re so ugly, it’s a challenge to share the garage with you.”

Nico pouted and fluttered his eyelashes at his teammate. “You’re lucky I’m so pretty, or I _would_ knock you out like Michael Tyson. Physically.”

“Awww!” He moved in and wrapped his arms round his teammate’s waist. “ _I need you in the daytime. Especially in the night time. I'm never in my right mind. When I'm with you baby, oh…I need your body on m-_ “

“Ok fine, shut up.” Nico pushed them both back onto the bed and hovered above Lewis’ face. “Point made. I hope you also know all these lyrics for humour purposes. You’re a good _lying_ boyfriend. And you win.”

“I am.” He locked eyes with him and smiled, smile reaching his eyes, so different to the smile reserved for uncomfortable questions from the press, or the smile reserved for _her_ , enjoying the feeling of being pinned down. “ _Whenever you're gone I get lonely. Can't believe how much I'm missing you._ ”

“I know.” The German nodded down at him and made a face. “I thought teammates would make it easier to hide. But it’s harder. Or is it just me?”

“It’s harder. I think it’s just too much, all the time.”

“Or not enough, any of the time.”

“Maybe that.”

Nico’s eyes traced the path of Lewis’ tongue as the Brit licked his lips. “Definitely that. And to prove the point, I have to go soon. My wife is waiting.”

“I know. Hammertime?” Lewis grinned at him, half cringing and half laughing, a mathematically impossible half left over to communicate the force of feeling. _I’m joking, but I’m not._

“How romantic.” His fellow Monaco resident smiled, accepting all those different reactions, and nodded, eyes locked on his teammate's. “There’s always time.”

*

Lewis got to the briefing first, as usual, and took a seat at one side of the table, content to wait and used to it by this point. Nico was the last to arrive, as usual, 13 minutes and 8 people later, and came in humming.

“Stop.” Lewis snapped his eyes up to meet his teammate’s and shook his head, everything except the twinkle in his eye making it seem like he was angry, everyone else thinking it was another Senna/Prost moment on the way. _We play a good game._

“What? Don’t you like it?” The German smiled innocently and risked a very, very slight wink. “Do, do, do, do ,do, do…”

“I don’t _like_ it, no. In fact… I feel more _strongly_ than that.”

 _Know the feeling._ The German shrugged it off as though it was nothing, the conversation started, and he waited 10 minutes before risking a look back at his teammate and giving him a proper, explanatory smile.

_I know the feeling._


	5. Seb/Rocky - "Weighing My Options" (G)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Motorskink prompt: 
> 
> Team Radio prompt:
> 
> Vettel: "Are you getting back to me or are you just leaving me?"  
> Rocquelin: "I'm weighing my options."
> 
> Never written anything like this before. As a Fernando fan, the scars of Interlagos 2012 run deep.
> 
> But all's fair in love and fantastic German 4-time World Champions. <3

He knew the choice of words had meant more the second he’d heard them. He knew that the conversation from the night before – Seb outside his room, trying to hold himself together, trying to convince him that the time was _now_ to admit how they felt to everyone else – had been compressed into that one phrase, and he knew that his answer had done the same for all of his answers from the night before.

_Weighing my options…am I? Or am I just scared?_

He sighed and raised his hand to knock on the door, finding the last few moments of peace to make a decision interrupted as the door opened and his driver stared out at him, evidently having been waiting a while for him to show.

_Another thing I’m sorry for._

“Weighing your options.”

“Sorry.”

“You’re always sorry.” Seb opened the door further and walked back inside his room, correctly expecting his engineer to follow. “So, what was heavier? How you feel about me or how scared you are?”

“What?”

“Weighing your options. Which one seems like a heavier burden to carry round?”

“Don’t be like that. It’s not that eas-“

“’It’s not that easy for you.’ I’ve heard that before. Too many times.”

“Because it’s true. I could lose-“

“What could you lose? Your job? That won’t happen. Your image? That shouldn’t worry _you._ This is what I don’t understand. I know how I feel, and I know that’s enough to go through whatever they can throw at us. And I’m the driver! I’m the one they’re going to devour whole for weeks. But, obviously, it’s not _that_ easy for _you._ ”

“Ok. I understand. I understand how it sounds, ok? But the problem…I don’t know. This is my life. Your life, whatever happens, says ‘4-time World Champion’ next to it. That’s the main thing everyone is going to realise. There’s no chance you’re going to wake up with nothing when you’re 50.”

“There’s no chance of that happening to you, either.”

“How? Without a job?”

“Like you just said, it says 4-time World Champion next to my name. If I say I want you…they hire you.”

“And I never get anything on merit again.”

“You could see it as that, or you could see the truth: a 4-time World Champion thinks you’re the best in the business and wants you to work with him forever.”

“But-“

“No, I’m not talking about because _I love you._ I mean because, professionally, you’re the best for me. So job security…it’s not even a reason. The reason is _fear_ and it’s starting to really make me wonder how you actually feel. _Weighing your options._ Sounds like a nice way of saying _trying to figure out how to leave you_.”

“That’s not it. I’d never leave you.”

“And I’d never leave you. So you’re going to wake up when you’re 50 with half of my life. That’s what I’m offering. If you want it, take it. If you don’t…I’ll go and find Ron Dennis right now and we can make it seem like nothing happened.”

 _Weighing my options._ “It will never be like nothing happened.”

“I know. I’m just trying out how it sounds, for tomorrow.”

 _Weighing my options._ “I’m terrified.”

 _At least you admit it._ “I’m terrified too. That doesn’t mean I’m not going to do it.”

There was a long pause as they looked at each other, the engineer going from fear to excitement at facing that fear and then back again, _weighing his options_ still heavy on his mind, before something about the idea of Seb in McLaren overalls brought everything into focus.

 _Deep breath._

“Ok. We tell Christian first.”

_And I thought he was happy when he won the 4th title…_


	6. Dani/Marc - "After Aragon" (G, again ;))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah...saw this prompt on motorskink: 
> 
> _Saw this on Tumblr and I knew I just had to prompt it!_
> 
> _"maybe the little bruises and cuts that show up seemingly out of nowhere are actually little injuries that happened to your soulmate and you get the same marks on your skin as them"_
> 
> That's just _made_ for Aragon 2013... ;)  <3

“Morning.” Marc gritted his teeth as he rolled over in bed, trying not to give away the pain in his voice to his brother down the phone. “I have a problem.”

_“Problem? Like, what? Is it something embarrassing? Because you can’t keep calling me to look-“_

“No! Nothing like that.” He laughed slightly despite himself and then gritted his teeth again as he realised how much that hurt. “I mean…I’m in pain. A lot of pain. Like I crashed…but I didn’t.”

_“What?”_

“I’ve had it before. But never as bad as this…almost like whatever happened, happened to someone else. I don’t remember anything…but I mean…” He sat up gingerly and swore into the phone. “It seriously fucking hurts.”

_“You need to go and see someone, then. Do you want me to come over and take you there?”_

_Knew you’d say that. Kind of wanted to avoid it. But maybe that’s why I called you._ “Please…”

_“Ok, on my way. Please put clothes on before I get there…”_

He laughed and winced again. “Ok, that was once and it was a big mistake because I thought…” _I thought it was Dani knocking on the door._ “…it was someone else.”

_You thought it was Dani. “Right, ok. I’m coming.”_

*

“Sleep ok?”

Dani nodded sullenly and winced again. “Ok given the circumstances.”

“Good. Talked about it yet?”

“No.”

“Going to?”

“No.”

“Right…”

*

“It looks like you’ve had a highside, but there’s nothing broken. You’re just very bruised.”

“That’s what I thought.” Marc sighed and tried to ignore the concerned frown heading his way. “I haven’t, though. Not yesterday. Only person who crashed yesterday was…” _Dani._ …not me.”

Alex helped him up and out through the door. “I bet Dani’s feeling the same. So you can at least tell him you’re in pain as well. Maybe that will at least get him to talk to you…”

“Hmm.” _The only person who crashed yesterday was Dani._ Marc’s brain filtered back over the other times he’d had it. _When did I first notice it? Sachsenring?_ He thought probably yes, and then felt everything go cold. _Sachsenring. Dani crashed at Sachsenring. After we-_ “It’s weird. I need to find him anyway, try another round of apologising…”

“Maybe you should relax for a while first…”

“No.” _If he feels like this, I know how much it hurts. And I also know whose fault it was._ “I need to find him. Now.”

*

The older rider sighed and looked up at the ceiling. “You.”

“Me…” Marc walked in, same slight wince on his face as he’d seen on his teammate’s. “I came to talk to you.”

“I don’t want to talk to you.”

“I need to tell you I’m sorry. I need to-“

“Yeah, _you_ need to. I don’t. Just leave me alone for a while.”

 _Ouch. Please don’t._ “Hey.” Marc lowered himself into a chair opposite and made the most of the split second of eye contact he was given. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. And if it makes you feel any better, I’m in fucking agony as well.”

The tiniest, tiniest begrudging hint of concern crossed the older rider’s face. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” Marc stood again, winced again, and then pulled his shirt off to show the bruises. Dani stared, and stared, before gradually doing the same.

_Carbon copy._

“Yeah. I thought it might look the same.”

“What? Why?”

“Ok.” The younger rider took a deep breath and sat back down, mirroring his teammate. “This is going to sound weird…but…it’s happened before.” _He’s talking, he’s talking to me._

“What has?”

“When you…hurt yourself…I…I’ve had similar things happen. I think it started in Sachsenring…”

“What are you talking about?!”

“Ok, fuck it. You broke your collarbone? Mine was so painful for the next few days. I thought I must have just done something. And then…Silverstone. You were touching your shoulder…”

“Yeah, just an old injury. Came back on Monday after the race, a bit.”

“The same shoulder as me and the same time as me.”

“Yeah. These things happen.”

“Do they?”

“…yeah?”

“They don’t. And if it started with Sachsenring…well… _you know_ what happened in Sachsenring.” Marc lowered his voice and looked around to check no one was going to hear. “Don’t tell me you think this is a coincidence.”

“You mean you think us sleeping together and then getting these injuries is connected? Come on. Don’t be stupid.” _I said I wasn’t even going to talk to you for a while…_

“It’s not stupid.”

“So you fuck somebody and then you’re connected for life? Great.”

“Don’t say that.” The younger rider looked back at him, hurt, and shrugged. “If that’s all it was to you, then fine.”

 _It was more to you?!_ “N-no…sorry. I didn’t mean to-“

“Hmm. Maybe we shouldn’t talk about it. I think I’ve done enough damage to us this weekend anyway.”

 _US?_ Dani felt his mouth go slightly dry. _I thought that was something you would have been regretting for weeks._ “No.” He sighed and tried to push the bitter, immature voice in his head away, taking Marc’s hand and leaning forward, the younger rider doing the same, both wincing in time. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that. And…I’m angry. I know I’m being harsh on you, and I’m sorry…you hit me…but you weren’t trying to cut that cable. You went to the outside to try and avoid me, I know.”

Marc felt a 3 ton weight lift off his shoulders. “I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorr-“

“It’s not ok, but it will be. I’m angry at the situation.” _Let it go._ “Not really at you.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. You’d be the same. And…tell me what you were going to say…?” _Please?_ The older rider almost managed a smile at how quickly his priorities changed from feeling sorry for himself to desperately trying to charm an admission of _something_ out the other rider. _Please say you-_

“About Sachsenring?” Marc looked down instinctively and realised their hands were still wound together. _How do I start? Do I start? Or will it end it?_ “I don’t know…what to say…I-“

“Just tell me the truth.” Dani squeezed his hand and then tilted his chin up to make eye contact. “Just be honest. Really honest. Please…”

“Ok.” Marc gulped and took a big, deep breath of air. “It was the best night of my life. It wasn’t just…a random fuck to me. I…I’ve always liked you. Then I was probably quite a way over the ‘like you’ line. Then…Sachsenring…I love you. Ok? I mean…I _really_ love you. And I’m so so sorry…”

Dani stared at him, mouth open, nothing going through his head except _I really love you, I really love you, I really love you_.

“That’s why…I mean…that’s one of those ideas that you think is crazy before it happens, right?” Marc filled the silence with as much other information as he could. “That your soulmate ends up with the same scars as you.” He used his free hand to pull up the hem of his shirt and then locked his eyes on Dani’s. “The same injuries…”

 _I really love you, soulmate, I really love you, soulmate, I really love you._

“So…I think that’s what’s happening. But…I mean. Sorry. I’ll go. Leave you alone now.”

He was almost out the chair, just about to take his hand back, before Dani woke up and yanked him back down, making both of them swear in pain.

“Fuck, sorry.”

“It’s ok.” _If you have a reason why you didn’t want me to leave…_ “If you-“

Dani had never been quite as good with words as he’d want to be, so he leaned forward and pressed his lips against Marc’s instead.

_I do._


	7. Dani/Marc - "Fireworks" (T)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill.
> 
> I'm sorry I'm so predictable. ;)
> 
> ♥

“So I guess we’re stuck here.”

“You could sound happier about it.”

 _AND WHY WOULD I?_ “S-sorry I just meant-“

“No, sorry. Sorry…it’s just…not what I had in mind.”

“Somewhere else to be?”

“Yeah.” _Or here, if you’d even look at me like that once-_ “I guess. Just…” _No no no champagne please don’t make me say it-_ “Just…nice to feel like you’re wanted. You know, around…whoever.”

 _Whoever._ “Sorry.” Dani risked a look at his teammate and inhaled sharply, way too sharply and audibly, at the look on his face. _Fuck._ “I, er…don’t be upset?”

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“Well…I’m fine.”

*

“You want another beer?”

“Yeah.” _Noooooo I do not._ “Thanks.” The younger rider took it and swigged a big gulp. “I’m cold.”

“You can…” _Wear this, baby. And make it smell like you so I can-_ Cough. “Wear this if you want?”

“Won’t you be cold?” _Please say no. Or maybe I wear it and you wrap your hands under-_

“No, I’m fine.” _Stop shivering._

*

“We’re friends, right?”

“Yeah?” _Unfortunately, we are. Until one day, probably when I leave, I’m going to dare to lean in in one of those moments we always seem to have where we both get caught in a tractor beam-_

“So…I can do this.” Marc shifted down the sofa slightly and grabbed his teammate’s hands, pulling them slowly up to his face and blowing warm air on them, eyes locked together, one of those moments Dani had been thinking about. _When it’s like we’re glued together._ “Right?”

“R-right.” Cough. “Yeah.”

*

“Dani.”

“Hmm.”

“Are you asleep?”

“No baby I’m awake.”

 _OH MY GOD._ He stared down at the very very very almost asleep figure and watched his finger trace his cheek, like it belonged to someone else, only the feeling of the light stubble underneath connecting him to the moment, watching as Dani’s eyes started to flutter open and he started to blush, realising what he’d said, trying to figure out how to take it back, sitting back up and turning to Marc to give it a try before suddenly finding lips on his, gentle, somehow obviously terrified, the whole moment seeming to last an hour before the younger rider gave up on a response and started to pull away, panicked, and their eyes locked together.

“Wh…”

“Sorry I…I’m sure you don’t feel the same and I just-“

 _The same. The same?!_ Dani felt himself flash white hot at the words, hand instinctively going up to cup Marc’s face to stop him moving away, two wide brown eyes staring back at him, searching for something to stop his heart trying to set lap records, before something snapped and Dani leaned in again, same as Marc, careful not to push too far, careful to leave them some room to back out and run off, feeling himself shiver for a different reason as a tentative tongue teased along his bottom lip and a hand traced around his waist and onto his back, pulling him in, everything going into slow motion as the taste of the beer on his teammate’s tongue reached his consciousness, hand tangling in his hair and both moving to face each other better, intensity increasing before they both paused a second as the first of the fireworks started outside, pulling their lips apart but foreheads together, both looking down and breathless, until Marc sat back slightly and stared at him.

“Fireworks.”

Dani nodded, absentmindedly licking his lips in silent wonder at the ruffled, breathless mess he’d somehow made of _Marc Marquez_ , staring back and waiting. _Fireworks._ “Hmm.”

Whatever he’d managed to say in that was obviously enough as Marc nodded, smiling slightly, leaning back towards him and then pushing him down into the cushions, propping himself over him and letting his eyes wander from eyes to lips, down his neck, over his hair, finally coming back to lock their gazes together again and lowering himself into another kiss, running his free hand down his teammate’s chest and over his stomach, hovering over his hip and then daring to lower himself further, feeling the relief as he felt fingers dig into his back pockets, pulling him in and welding them together.

“I wanted to tell you so badly but I-“

“Same.” He gasped the word into Marc’s mouth and then closed his fingers around the bottom of his hoodie, or rather his hoodie he’d donated, and felt his bottom lip nipped in encouragement before he pulled it off, then his shirt, kiss more room to roam from his neck over his collarbone and down, pushing his teammate up and off him to pin him down, cold suddenly not even noticeable as his own t shirt hit the floor and nimble fingers snapped his jeans open, hand pushing under both layers of fabric as though he’d done it before thousands of times, as though they weren’t _teammates at Repsol Honda_ , as though he groaned Marc’s name into his mouth every weekend.

_Fireworks._


	8. Alex/Alex - "Team Alex" (G)

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

 _It’s always more awkward after the fact, when you’re sat there without your helmet on and for some reason everyone else has just left._ “I, er…” _I wanted to say this without sounding so nervous._ “I wanted to say thank you…”

“It’s ok. You’re welcome.” _And somehow I mean it._ “I’m surprised you trusted me.” He allowed himself a sideways smile and then turned it into a grin as he saw the smirk aimed back at him. “I could have been Ajo’s dark horse.”

“Hmm. Not going to lie, I did consider it…”

Alex, leaving-Monlau Alex, left the pause long enough to create the laugh and then nodded. “Me too…”

“Well yeah, you know. You spend years being the most annoying rider on the grid I’m sure it was tempting…” _I hope we’re in that mood where we can both take a joke..?_

“Ha! Me?! ME annoying?”

“Yup. Short memory, Mr Motegi?”

“Ok I am definitely not Mr Motegi. That’s on you.”

Alex, Marquez-branded Alex, left the same pause and then grinned again. “Maybe. But I did win it.”

“Oh I fucking remember.”

They lapsed into silence for a few seconds, both amused and laughing to themselves, then feeling it gradually fade into nostalgia, suddenly aware the Team Alex era was over, before Rins spoke again. 

“Good job though. Since I crashed.”

“Yup. I know.” He turned and smiled, just genuine and warm, no sarcasm in it, and nodded. “So you can’t say I didn’t try and repay the favour. Or earn it?”

“Come on, you weren’t thinking about th-“

“Yeah, I was.” The younger Marquez nodded and smiled at him before looking at the floor for a few seconds. “So you could say it’s all your fault anyway…”

“My fault.”

“Yeah, you know. Falling off, making me realise I could beat Maverick. Stoking me up to whoop you this year…”

“Pfffff. Ok so you had a good year but you didn’t-“

“No, I know.” Another smile. “I really know. And beating Jack feels really good. Because I won. But beating you is maybe better.”

“Better.” _Better?_

“Well…you didn’t play dirty.”

 _Huh._ “No. I didn’t.”

“I know.” _Just say it. Last chance._ “And you’re good. You’re really good. Beating Jack was winning the title, but beating you feels like proving I’m actually good enough.” _How did we end up in this conversation, sweaty and half soaked in champagne, weirdly alone in here, which we’ve shared forever and never had a proper conversation in._ “Because I know how good you are.”

 _Wow. Ok._ “Th-thanks.”

“You’re welcome…” _Awkward._ “I, er…I especially enjoyed the come back when he pushed me wide…”

“Ha. Yeah…I mean…I didn’t want to…” _How to say it._ “I didn’t want to make it like us versus him, you know? Should be you and him, then me…well I was kind of watching Kent. And Hanika but he disappeared. But when I saw him do that…that really pissed me off.”

 _What?!_ “Really?”

“Yeah. Ok so me and Jack are friends…or I thought we were. But that’s too far. He went a bit too far there. If he’d done that to me I would have been pissed off as well. So maybe we’re all a bit crazy…but you shouldn’t be scared to overtake somebody. I don’t mean like Vazquez or whatever where you’re kind of tense and waiting for him to come back at you, I mean…you shouldn’t be _scared_ of getting bashed out the way on purpose.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“In Sepang or in Cheste…”

 _We actually agree._ “In Sepang or in Cheste.” 

They smirked at each other again for a second before Rins sighed. “And I guess sitting here being all nostalgic proves a point…”

“Hmm?”

“Well…I’m here, aren’t I?”

 _You are._ “I guess it does. He give you shit on the cool down lap?”

“Yup.”

“You take it gracefully?”

“Publicly? Yup.” He laughed and shrugged at other Alex’s face. “Maybe privately I used our native language to my advantage…”

“Jaja. Yeah although you should watch that, I’m sure Maverick’s been teaching him all the good words…”

“Yeah I know. Don’t remind me.”

“Don’t remind me?”

“Get the same manager and suddenly best friends, I don’t know. It’s weird. Also, it’s funny how Maverick tweeted Baz all that stuff about team orders, and he’s best friends with the head of the Australian armada.”

“Australian armada.” Alex giggled to himself and then nodded. “I guess. Didn’t think about that.”

“Danny Kent can’t think about anything else.”

“Burrrrrrrn.”

“But deserved burn?”

“Deserved burn.” 

They nodded to themselves, still half-grinning, and then both sat back almost in sync, sighing and staring at the ceiling. “Weird to say it now but turns out you’re not an idiot.”

“Wow. Thank you so much.” 

“You know what I mean.”

“Hmm…maybe?”

“You definitely know what I mean.”

“Yeah fair enough. Same. It’s weird. Moto2 isn’t weird but I’m worried I’ll turn up in Jerez and jump on Salom’s bike…”

“Jaja awww. You going to miss me?”

“Honestly?” _Honestly._ “Y-yeah. Quite a lot.”

 _Woah. Ok._ “Well maybe this is the dress rehearsal for it to happen again…” _Maybe I need excuses to stop myself finding this so difficult to face._

“You planning on joining Honda?”

“No…”

“Then I guess…this is it.”

They both looked at the door as someone banged on it, signal to both that they were needed, and then got to their feet in sync, turning awkwardly to each other and pausing, trying to read it, before Rins shrugged slightly and smiled, pulling him into a hug and squeezing, glad to have the moment to say a little goodbye, feeling his teammate relax into the hug and squeeze back, sudden emotion charging the air around them, nerves stiffening their limbs as they realised what they were doing. “Thanks for a great few years. I’ll miss you.”

“Same to you. And thanks for today.”

“You’re welcome. Thanks for Motegi?”

“Don’t mention it.” _We’re still hugging._

“And you don’t mention what I said…”

“Lips are sealed.” The younger Marquez adjusted his arms slightly and felt something click as they seemed to suddenly fit, aware they were still wrapped around each other, neither seeming to want to let go, words almost pressed into the skin of his teammate’s neck. “We should go.”

“Hmm…”

 _Hmm. Bye bye._ He let himself relax into it for a few more seconds before gently pulling away and standing in front of him, both smiling ruefully, wondering what to say next, what to make of that, how to explain the longest hug either had shared with anyone in a long time. “Good luck in Moto2. I’ll miss you…”

Rins nodded and suddenly reached forward and squeezed his hand, eyes still locked together for that last little shared moment, last few words before they headed back out into the sunny aftermath of the end of the era, both needing an extra breath and a few seconds to let that sink in. 

“Good luck in Moto2. I’ll miss you, too.”


	9. Jorge/Vale - "Piñata" (G)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was a random typo from Hooking Up. "Jorge pulls into the drive and hits the burro..."
> 
> So what if he did?! :/
> 
> For secondary reading ;) there's "The Five Times People Came To The Ranch and Announced Themselves By Killing Something"

_FUCK._

He rips himself out the car to check the damage, knowing from the yelling that’s already started that Valentino is more than aware of both his presence and his driveway negligence.

_FUCK. FUCK FUCK FUCK._

The car looks ok, the donkey looks fucked.

“Hey there…donkey…or…” He wracks his memory for the name and grits his teeth. “Hey there Max. Sorry buddy…are you ok?”

Biaggi the donkey does not respond. Although not fluent in Italian at the best of times, it does at least usually blink or try to attack _him_ , ironically enough.

“I’m sorry I hit you but your owner is now running over here screaming blue murder so it would be great if you could get up and pretend I didn’t drive over you.”

Nothing.

“Please…please, Max.” He prods it gingerly and winces at both the lack of response from the donkey and Valentino’s _DON’T YOU TOUCH HIM!_ as he fast approaches. “Wake up…”

“GET AWAY FROM HIM!”

He takes another look at the prone creature and then nods and winces as he gets to his feet, slightly barrelled out of the way by Vale, and guiltily watches the older rider start to sob, arms round the donkey, clinging on, nothing any use, before he looks up with daggers in his eyes.

“YOU’VE KILLED MY DONKEY.”

“I’m sorry.”

“MY DONKEY.” The Italian gets to his feet and starts to prod him in the chest, voice cracking. “My donkey. My baby…my poor, innocent baby, running free over my fields...”

Jorge puts his arms around him, worried he might get run over in return and pleasantly surprised as instead, his _boyfriend?_ starts sobbing into his shoulder, wincing guiltily at the sight of the dead free-roaming victim in the corner of his eye. _Sorry, baby._

“My donkey. Jorge, my donkey. My donkey is dead.”


End file.
